This Is the Life

I built forty million miles of strip-malls
And I painted the sky with aerosol
Plugged the hole in your pockets with credit cards
And clouded your eyes with sitcoms

I put the "con" in "convenience," and I string you along
Don't worry your head 'cause there ain't nothing wrong
Don't worry your head 'cause there ain't nothing wrong, oh

I make tiny, starving fingers sew your comfy running shoes
And I make more money than any man could ever use
Been called a cool mother fucker, but I'm not that mean
You see I'd gladly leave the dregs of the earth to the meek

Don't worry your head 'cause there ain't nothing wrong [Repeat x 4]

Ohh
Whoo

This is the life [Repeat x 7]
For me [Repeat x 3]